untitled
by Lomeril
Summary: An alternate ending to the movie, starting at the shootout. Spoilers ahead, so don't read if you're planning on watching the film without knowing what happens.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the computer this was written on.

I don't know if this ist going to work, but I thought I'd give it a try. Unfortunately there aren't nearly as many stories about this movie as I would like to read, but I'm still hoping someone who's better in writing stories than me will give it a shot.

Feedback (good and bad) ist always welcome, as well as corrections of grammar, spelling or choice of words (English isn't my first language, but I'm trying to get better).

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The metallic click of the empty magazine from Teddy's gun hitting the ground echoed loudly through the room, then there was an eerie silence. Matty sat on the stone floor where he had landed, his own gun loosely in his hand, and stared disbelieving first at Taylor, who lay unmoving on the ground, then at his uncle. Teddy returned his look for a moment, and his eyes showed a ruthless coldness Matty had never seen on him before. This wasn't the man he had known all his life, whom he had trusted blindly and who had at times been closer to him than his own father; it was a stranger.

Then the older man turned away. "Let's see what we got here," he said as he went to the bag and opened it, checking its content.

Matty got shakily to his feet. He knew. Suddenly everything was so clear to him that he couldn't understand how he had missed it before.

"It was you!" he gasped, as desperation and hate arose inside him at the same time. He had his gun pointed at his uncle's back.

Teddy froze, then turned to look at his nephew. He had a look of surprise and hurt on his face, but Matty saw he was acting. Trying to deceive him again. "You came out here to do this." His voice held a clear accusation now. It didn't sound as cool as he had wanted it to, but he was too shaken to keep his feelings out of it.

"I know what I told you kid, but nobody fucks up like your friends did here and comes out of it clean. No." Teddy spoke as if he wanted to lecture a very young child, gesticulating in a way that was supposed to be calming.

"Bullshit," Matty spat. The shock was ebbing away, and his anger started to boil. "You came out here to take that money. There were never any shortages. You're the one who's been robbing from my father, you son of a bitch."

"Matty it's not like that…" Teddy tried, but the younger man interrupted him.

"Stop fuckin' tellin' me how it is, Teddy. My whole life, you been tellin' me how it is. You've been lying to me. You put me in that basement with Bobby Boulevard 'cause you knew it would break me. You came here tonight to kill me."

There was a pause. Teddy was staring, and Matty could practically see his brain working behind those cold eyes.

"Tell me I'm wrong. Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong about any of it."

He really wanted him to. He wanted his uncle to laugh, to bring forward really good arguments to prove it wasn't true. It had to be a misunderstanding. But it wasn't. The look on Teddy's face told him that even before his words did only a moment later.

"What the fuck do you want to know? I did what I did. Walkin' off that handball court dumping game after game to your fucking old man. Can I tell you, I could beat his arse carrying a lawn chair in my left hand." This was him. The real Teddy. No pretence. Instead of fatherly concern, a vicious sneer was visible on his face now.

Matty felt like throwing up. The room seemed to spin around him. It all made sense, but somehow it was still too difficult to grasp. His uncle's voice seemed to float to him through a haze.

"So, yeah, now I'm takin' mine."

Matty shook his head, partially to clear his blurring vision, partially because it was the only statement he could give right now. It seemed impossible to speak. "No, you're not," he finally brought out quietly.

Teddy, who had been walking toward the door with the bag in his hand, spun around to face him, and now he was the one looking disbelieving.

"I'm not?" he asked, sounding dangerous and challenging at the same time. "What are you gonna do, Matty? You gonna shoot me?"

Matty stood, his gun still pointed at his uncle, although his hand shook slightly. He seemed close to tears. A moment passed, and none of the men moved. Finally, Teddy shook his head, and the disdainful sneer returned to his face.

"You're not gonna shoot me." He turned as if to leave again, but his hand reached for the gun plugged under his waistband. "I got shoes older than you, kid… and tougher, too."

With that, he spun around, aiming straight at his nephew's head. But Matty was ready this time. He more felt than saw the weapon in Teddys hand, and pulled the trigger without hesitation. Again, and again, until the clip was empty and only a soft clicking noise sounded through the otherwise deadly silent room. Images of his friends flashed before his eyes, Chris and Taylor shot, and he knew Marbles was dead, too.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Matty lowered the gun and stared at the dead man lying on the floor. He didn't feel any sorrow, any remorse, nothing. He was alone in an old slaughterhouse, bleeding bodies all around him, and a great emptiness seemed to spread inside him. The edges of his vision began to grey quickly. His gaze fell on Chris, leaning against the wall, eyes open and staring lifeless.

Then movement on the floor caught his attention. Taylor was stirring, turning his head and wincing when he opened his eyes.

"Taylor?" Matty stumbled toward his friend and fell to his knees beside him. The other man seemed more alert now and managed to raise himself to a sitting position, looking around but obviously still dazed. His gaze fell on Teddy, and his face hardened at the sight.

Matty sighed and dropped back against an old cart. The relief about Taylor being alive had washed the whole tension away, and now it seemed impossible to him to even keep his eyes open any longer. The sounds of Taylor moving around and struggling to get up were strangely muffled, as if far away. Instead, a dull pain made itself felt in his left shoulder, filling all his senses.

The voice of someone calling his name reached his mind, and Matty tiredly opened his eyes to find Taylor staring at him with a concerned expression on his face. Focusing was difficult, and the world around him quickly went darker. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, but finally gave in to the beckoning darkness, with the voice of his friend fading away into nothingness.


End file.
